


Eat Me

by indefensibleselfindulgence



Category: Drag-On Dragoon | Drakengard
Genre: Cannibalism, Cunnilingus, Dead End Branch, F/F, Non-Explicit Sex, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-31
Updated: 2019-05-31
Packaged: 2020-03-31 00:32:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19038721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indefensibleselfindulgence/pseuds/indefensibleselfindulgence
Summary: It starts as a joke, probably.





	Eat Me

**Author's Note:**

> college student devil's advocate voice: well actually you can end world hunger if you can regenerate so

It starts as a joke, probably.   
  
A quick thrown out “eat me” in the middle of an argument that Accord overhears late one night. This particular branch is so slow moving she just had to involve herself. It's definitely not at all that she was too bored or anything. No definitely not- It had everything to do with the fact that this one required a sort of hands-on approach. A little bit of nudging, that's all.   
  
The derivation occurred when the Intoner known as Three had gotten away, run off to hide in the Land of Sands with all of her countless army. So the anomaly known as Zero had no chance to take a break between her corrections.   
  
The search was... tedious.   
  
Either way, it started as a joke. She thinks. For all of Zero's exclamations, she can be shockingly dry in her humor. One of her disciples- not her's “just loaners, don't put that shit on me”- spreads his fingers in a V and sticks his tongue between it and Zero kicks him in the shin. Hard, presumably, as he almost doubles over and starts complaining in a higher pitched voice than usual.   
  
Another disciple makes groaning noises, and Zero rolls her eyes. And yet another remarks on how his bone is certainly strong enough to-   
  
“Hey, do you eat?” Accord's optics click once between she turns to look at Zero.   
  
“Oh, only recreationally.”   
  
“Just say no, god.” But it's not sharp- she doesn't believe it to be.   
  
“I'm hungry!” Her dragon says, tail whipping the sand around and making half of the party groan.   
  
“Stop- I know-”   
  
Accord stands through the night, watching them quietly, feeling sand graze against her face and get stuck in her hair. Zero coils around her dragon, the three disciples lay on their sides near the fire. She watches the sun slowly rise over the horizon, and the sky shift colors.   
  
This branch really is a waste of time. 

  
…

  
“Lady Zero?”   
  
Accord stands on a dune, heels sinking into the sand slowly. It is mid-afternoon, and the sun hangs heavy in the sky, her system flashing a tiny alert every time the temperature rises by a degree. If worse comes to worst, she supposes she could remove her armor, but the disadvantage to her personal safety to doing so seems worse then any heat damage this model could sustain.   
  
“What?”   
  
“Well,” The disciple looks around, directionless. “There doesn't seem to be any food- or anything that can function as food. Nearby.”  
  
“And?”   
  
“Just worrying about your strength, Lady Zero. That's all.”   
  
“Worry about yourself.”   
  
Accord makes a note, for her personal future convenience that showing concern for the anomaly will result in a pleasant micro-expression. She will save a picture of it at a later time, when the lighting is not as harsh.   
  
“And Lady Zero, Mikhail is-”   
  
“He's fine!” She snaps and flings her sword at the disciple, just a few degrees off mark, which must be intentional. “Instead of acting like a baby, you could make yourself useful, for once, and dig up a cactus or some shit.”   
  
“R-right away, Lady Zero.” 

  
…

  
A week later is the first day they do not find food, and the whining is audible from a mile away.   
  
Of course, it doesn't matter, as it seems like everything in the nearby area is either dead or scared enough of the whining to risk starvation. Which does seem to be the imminent end of this branch- forced to wander the deserts until madness, the regular human kind not the flower induced kind, takes them.   
  
It's rather bleak, definitely not her taste, but she's already decided to see this one out to the end.   
  
And even with the sand getting in places that will definitely require maintenance later, she gets to spend time with Zero. Doing valuable recorder work,  finding out how the anomaly operates in a different kind of stressful situation. It's fascinating. And Accord is glad that she's the model to get to do it.   
  
The party sits around a fire at night with the large disciple trying frantically to bring up the food scarcity and Zero getting more and more irritated by the moment.   
  
“We're all just one step away from resorting to cannibalism.” The older disciple says and the other three sound off instantly, Zero shouting them all down.   
  
“Get over yourselves for fucks sake-”   
  
“I call dibs on your thighs.”   
  
“Keep talking, and you won't have any fucking legs.” She walks away from them, in Accord's direction, a few steps past her before stopping. “Why are they so fucking stupid?”   
  
“Ah- Poor animation magic.” She says, her head tilting to ensure she could see all of Zero's angles in the moonlight. For research of course.   
  
“Piece of shit weed can't do anything right.”   
  
Accord doesn't say anything while Zero stands there and fumes and doesn't say anything when Zero sits down on the sand dune.   
  
“If it does come to cannibalism, do you have a preference?” Zero throws her arms up. “Just for the record.”   
  
“No, I don't. Decadus is too gamey, Dito doesn't have any meat on him, and Octa's basically leather.”   
  
“I think I would prefer eating you too. Objectively. If I am presented with no other options.”   
  
“Yeah well.” She gets sand in her face, and she supposes that's deserved, but Zero's so close that if she were to jack up her skin's pressure sensitivity, she could feel the petals on her face. “Good thing you don't eat.” 

  
…

  
Four days after that, Zero makes the executive decision to hack her legs off and regenerate.   
  
Accord stares at her from a distance, just like the disciples stare at her up close and the Dragon makes pathetic sobbing noises until she yells “Enough.” and the desert becomes exceptionally silent.   
  
“You need to eat.” She jabs the dragon on the face. “Otherwise you're useless to me.”   
  
“B-but Zero- But Zero it's- it's you!”   
  
“Yes.”   
  
“And you're- But Zero!”   
  
“End of conversation.” And then she turns to the angry one and holds her sword out, pommel first. “Happy birthday.” It's not anyone's birthday, but the disciple looks so elated Accord doesn't feel the need to correct anyone.   
  
“Lady Zero-”   
  
“The idiot gets one and a half, you can split what's left.”   
  
“Can't I take more? I mean-”   
  
“Be grateful I'm feeding you at all.”   
  
She doesn't scream, when they finally decide to do it. It's good data, even when faced with such horrific bodily harm, that the anomaly will sooner grit her teeth and bear it then yell. Though, Accord hypothesizes that it might be for the dragon's sake. The sound of dragon bone against intoner skin and muscle and finally bone is good data too, considering their models are so rarely present when an intoner gets put down.  
  
Later, Zero sits next to Accord and watches them try and hack the meat off of the bone. The smell of burning flesh must spread out for miles.   
  
“Don't want to join them?”   
  
“Would you like me too?”   
  
“...It'd be weird to have you lord this over me. In other timelines.”   
  
“It would just be more information.”   
  
And they do so love their information.   
  
“You're really weird.”   
  
“Maybe to you.” 

  
…

  
Five days later, when Zero's new stomach starts to ache with a desperation, she lets her disciple take an arm in addition.   
  
“Does it hurt?” Accord asks, once she crawls out of the flower tacky and naked. “If you could describe it in detail, that would be so very advantageous. For future branches.”  
  
“It just sucks at the end.” Zero tries to fix her hair and yells when the ribbon keeps slipping in the viscera. “Crawling out. The reformation is- not nice but.” She tries again, and the ribbon slips down into the sand through her hands. “Do it for me.”   
  
Accord sets her suitcase down, and once she's sure it won't slip down the dune and damage the contents, she walks over and picks up the black ribbon. The smell is even more metallic than usual, and the sickly sweetness of rot and the faint hints of chilled lily overwhelm her. She remembers that she altered her sensitivity almost as a passive thought but now? Why lower it.   
  
Zero's hair is soft, even under the gore, and she pulls it tight like how Zero prefers to wear it- but then there's no need to rush. She must have a few more seconds before Zero's hairline temper flares up so if she allows herself an unnecessary run of the fingers so that the hair slips along her wrist and makes her sensors flare with so much information it almost makes her organic dizzy then no one other than the Recorder models have to know.   
  
“You're very indifferent to the cannibalism.” She says instead of anything else.   
  
“Yeah well, been there done that. And moral gripping is for piss babies.” Zero turns around, and Accord remember vaguely that Zero is still naked. “It's just meat.”   
  
“Don't want to know what you taste like?”   
  
“Better they get extra and don't whine about it later.”   
  
Accord takes a step back and picks up her suitcase again. The familiar weight is what she chooses to latch on to while she lowers her sensitivity back down to its designated range.  
  
“Is it care or convenience?”   
  
“Ha.” She says without a hint of amusement. “Can't you tell?” 

  
…

  
“Are we ever going to get out of here?”   
  
“You always do,” Accord says after another messy resurrection. “We're full of faith in you.”   
  
“We, huh?” Accord doesn't answer, so Zero gets up and goes to sit with her group. Accord sits for an hour alone before Zero finally comes back. “Here.” There's a sliver of meat between her fingers. “Recreationally.”   
  
“Professionally, if anything.” And she opens her mouth and lets Zero place it in her mouth.   
  
Her tastebuds aren't exactly designed for flavor profiles so much as they are designed to separate components, to analyze, and she can, at least on a surface level tell that it's Zero's thigh, that Zero's blood sugar was low and that she was dehydrated and that there was no fear ruining the meat.   
  
But it's really rather hard to read the popups when Zero's fingers are still in her mouth. They prod along her teeth, along the inside of her cheeks, almost all the way down her tongue.   
  
“Professionally?” She asks tracing the sensors at the back of her throat. “Who needed you to eat people professionally?” She means to say 'classified', but again, long, pretty, sharp fingers in her mouth, so who knows what jumbled mess comes out instead. “And?”   
  
Her mouth is empty, and she feels woefully hollow.   
  
“And?”   
  
“How do I taste?”   
  
“I'm unsure.” Accord lies for the first time since her model's creation. “More experimentation is required for an adequate answer.”   
  
“Professionally.” Zero nods along slowly. “Of course.”   
  
She really shouldn't be surprised when Zero pushes her down until she's sitting on the edge of her suitcase and Zero pulls at the lacing of her shorts.   
  
Maybe there's something to be said about the grim and dull routes after all.   
  
She doesn't taste of anything other than skin until Accord does something she has at the very back of her data logs with her tongue and then she tastes miserably human. She dismisses the absolutely useless information of ph value, blood pressure, somehow still low blood sugar, and focuses instead on how much she wants to burry inside of her and never leave.   
  
“Did 'They' give you something fun to play with?” Zero whispers, those long fingers coiling in her hair and tugging her around. “Or am I going to have to make do?”   
  
Accord doesn't bother answering, just keeps licking her open, trying to learn more and more and more about this thing that doesn't make sense, that doesn't function normally, that breaks time and space apart just because the end goal doesn't work for her.   
  
She learns Zero doesn't mind gloved hands.   
  
Which is, of course, nothing short of vital information.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> comments are always encouraged and very very very appreciated
> 
> find me on[ tumblr ](http://iamalivenow.tumblr.com/) and [ twitter](https://twitter.com/licotain)


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